


Home

by HoneyBeeez



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: But here you go, Domestic Violence (but not too explicit), I tried my best, M/M, does it count as major character death if an inserted character dies? oh well, i dont know how to explain this, i wrote this for a creative writing class so it might be weird, kyoutani has a dog named raccoon, my classmates dont know theyre getting fanfiction shhhhhh, theres some mildly implicating stuff? just really vivid descriptions or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyBeeez/pseuds/HoneyBeeez
Summary: Kentarou struggles to find a home that he feels in his heart. Raccoon is the only thing that ever feels close enough. He doesn't know where his path will take him, but anywhere is better than here.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So i wrote this for one of my classes and its going to be workshopped and everything but i just wanted to post it here because i liked it

Kentarou wakes with the rising sun that shines through the glass walls of the house. He sneaks out with next to nothing, leaving with the clothes on his back and a small pack with enough food for an entire day. The moment the door shuts behind him, a grin nearly splits his face in two before he starts running.

The expanse in front of him, at the back of the house, is nothing but wildlife as far as the eye could see. Trees grow towards the sun at every turn, dead leaves cover the ground and hide raised roots, underbrush grows hectically all around. But Kentarou keeps running; he avoids every rock and root, laughs brightly at the feeling of leaves crunching underneath his bare toes, takes a deep breath of the crisp, cold air. He runs like he knows every step by heart, like he knows where each footstep is going to land.

He is deep into the trees when the first wolf howls and the distant sound of rustling underbrush reaches his ears. The sounds steadily crescendos until it’s finally right behind him, heavy footfalls, huffing breaths, and snapping jaws practically filling his ears. But Kentarou keeps running and smiles his face-splitting smile, laughs his bright, bubbly laugh, and howls right back.

* * *

 

Kentarou holds on tightly to Raccoon’s neck as the clamor from upstairs continues. They’ve been at it for at least an hour, their angry, poisonous voices seeping through the floorboards and down into the darkness of the garage, and Kentarou doesn’t know if they’ll ever stop. Their fights feel the same way the wolves’ howling does when they get started: in the moment, eternal.

Kentarou flinches as the sound of broken glass harmonizes with the yelling, and Raccoon whimpers sympathetically. He turns towards Kentarou, his snout bumping the side of his head, and Kentarou buries his face into his fur. His tears are immediately erased by the dense softness.

Upstairs, they fight, but here, now, Kentarou is safe. In this moment, Kentarou is home.

* * *

 

Kentarou learns a lot very quickly. He discovers that all his belongings fit in one backpack comfortably. It’s reiterated that his parents don’t seem to care where he is. He picks up that his parents do not attend to their money well. He grasps at the fact that Raccoon is oddly devoted to him and refuses to leave his side even when the rest of the pack watches him go.

He learns, ultimately, that public transportation is a nightmare with a canine.

Raccoon is beautiful, spritely, and fiercely loyal. Without a leash, he sticks by Kentarou’s side like a second skin, on guard. It’s no one’s fault but theirs when they don’t ask, when they bend down and coo “ _hi baby_ ,” only to get snapped at.

Their shocked, offended faces nearly make Kentarou laugh, and Raccoon knows this. After every one, he smiles up at him, tongue lolling out, eyes shining with the prospect of making him happy.

Needless to say, it is a long ride to nowhere.

* * *

 

Kentarou gradually accepts that he hates cities. There are not enough trees, or grass, or dirt. The pavement burns under his bare feet and scorches Raccoon’s pads as the day wears on. People linger everywhere, levelling them with questioning gazes and sympathetic looks. Free-roaming dogs and cats tease Raccoon, make his shackles rise, make his teeth visible in a way that Kentarou has to calm him down from.

There is not enough food in the city, and yet too much. Everyone eats, and yet Kentarou and Raccoon starve. Windows display food without end, and yet they cannot get any. Spending the money he has now will cause trouble later on.

Their favorite place to be is a park, ironically. There are trees and grass and dirt, but there are also children and parents and other dogs. People try to talk to him as he plays with Raccoon, but he never replies; he’s too busy speaking to Raccoon, all body language and posture and prancing. He is all Kentarou needs. No matter the moment, Raccoon is home.

They sleep at the base of an oak tree on the outskirts of the park, Raccoon draped over Kentarou like a blanket, doing anything to keep him warm throughout the night.

* * *

 

There is a boy that passes through the park almost every morning.

The first time they meet, he nearly trips over them as they sleep. He apologizes, steps back as Raccoon starts growling, and tilts his head as Kentarou pushes at Raccoon’s snout, shushing him without speaking. There’s an awkward amount of staring before the boy bows out again, saying sorry about three more times, before walking away, shoulders hiked up to his chin and hands clenched in a vice-like grip on the straps of his backpack.

The second time they meet, it almost serves a purpose. Kentarou and Raccoon are up and lounging around, too lazy to start their day but too awake to sleep in. When the boy sees them, he smiles and walks over. Raccoon doesn’t growl, not this time, recognizing the boy. Kentarou is the one on edge.

“I talked to a couple people around here earlier,” he says after a few attempts at chit chat. “A lot of them said you’re here every day and… well, look like you have nowhere to go.” The boy finally sits down next to him, and it’s a wonder Kentarou lets him. “ _Do_ you have somewhere to go?”

Kentarou turns away from him and Raccoon looks in between the two, uncertainly, before licking Kentarou’s face. When it becomes apparent that neither of them are talking, the boy sighs and hangs his head.

“I’ve… got to get going, but I know it’s none of my business and I know that I don’t even know you, but if you need anything, I’m here, okay?”

And then the boy gets up and leaves, sneaking peeks at the both of them as he goes. When he’s finally out of sight, Kentarou feels like he can breathe again.

* * *

 

There’s an abandoned house at the far edge of the town, so old and preserved that it could serve as a relic. The windows are yellow and the faint beige paint peels off its walls; the small yard is covered with dying grass, the front door is barely hanging on its hinges, and the roof looks like it’s one hard rain away from caving in altogether.

The lights inside the house barely seem functional, the bulbs either outdated or blown out. Instead, an array of stubby, overused candles is scattered around the house, perched on any surface they can balance on. The living room looks ancient, with a bulky television housed in a piece of furniture that looks designed to hold it, a floral-patterned couch that caves in where the cushions meet, and a coffee table that accumulates a healthy layer of dust.

Disturbing it all is a ratty, overstuffed, boyish backpack, an oddly-shaped red dog toy, and a heavily dog-eared novel.

The house feels like it’s been preserved in time, undisturbed for decades. Every picture frame looks old and displays black-and-white pictures of a perfect family, all smiles and happiness and without worries. Every piece of furniture or appliance looks like it could have been featured in an antique store.  But despite the stagnant air and forlorn twinge, hints of life are everywhere. The oven door is opened slightly, almost as if someone tried letting it heat up the whole house like that. There are food wrappers steadily piling up in the middle of the dusty countertop, looking new and smelling slightly of the food they once held.

A broken staircase leads up to a carpeted hallway and several doors. The first opens up to a bedroom that obviously belonged to a little girl, with pink walls, bright bedclothes and a chest full of toys at the edge of the bed.

The second door hides a nearly pristine bathroom, except it’s almost like someone came and went carelessly. The toilet seat was up, the basin holding distinctly yellow water, and the sink and the bathtub were both smudge nonsensically with mud.

The third door is an entrance to a guest bedroom, with a bed, nightstand, wardrobe, and mirror. There is nothing that looks too personal, and it is clear that this room never truly homed anyone before.

The fourth door holds the master bedroom; a large bed, closet, mirror, pictures littering the nightstand and drawers. The only thing out of place is that the bedclothes, which are rumpled. The disturbance is just the right size for a teenager and his dog to curl up in at the center.

* * *

 

It is completely by chance that Kentarou and Raccoon run into the boy again. They have long since abandoned the park, because mothers were getting suspicious of them, and someone had actually called the cops on him. By the time they had come looking for the homeless boy and dog, Kentarou and Raccoon were far gone. He was sure his parents finally filed him as a missing person by now; he knew they didn’t care particularly but knew they wouldn’t want to be cast in a bad light.

Kentarou and Raccoon have taken to hanging around the outskirts of town, only wandering in and taking what they absolutely need; a little food here, something scoured from the trash there. It is almost never enough, but they manage.

So it is by chance that, while Raccoon waits outside, Kentarou runs into the boy in a convenience store. Quite literally.

“Sorry,” the boy mutters as they accidentally bump shoulders. When he looks up a moment later, his eyes widen infinitely and his mouth pops open before he launches into speech. “You’re that guy from the park! I tried looking for you but I didn’t know where you went and everyone just kind of assumed you disappeared so… well, I guess I want to say that I’m glad you’re okay. Where’s your dog?”

Kentarou jerks his head towards the door.

“Oh. I kinda figured. Stupid ‘No Dogs Allowed’ rules, am I right?” the boy prattles on, laughing at his own joke. When Kentarou doesn’t respond, his voice fades and he casts his eyes downward. “Y-Your feet…”

Kentarou doesn’t wear shoes. He doesn’t like them, and he never needed them back in the woods. In the city, the pavement is hot and glass shards litter the streets and mysterious substances are rampant. His feet were always calloused, but now they are cut up, slightly burned, and infected, and it shows. Kentarou shrugs, and moves to try to leave, but the boy catches his arm and keeps him where he is.

“You’re not going anywhere. Is that all you’re buying? Hand it over.”

The boy is lucky that Kentarou doesn’t fight him, lucky that Kentarou is almost too weak to fight him now, and lets him tug Kentarou around, buy his food for him, and lead both Kentarou and Raccoon to the opposite side of town and up onto the third floor of an apartment building.

“My parents kicked me out a long time ago, but they’re still paying for everything. I guess that’s what happens when you decide to go to college a year early,” the boy muses, putting everything he bought away in the tiny kitchenette, separating Kentarou’s goods from his. He makes Kentarou and Raccoon sit in the living room as he shuffles around. In only a couple of minutes, he’s doling out an amazing amount of scrambled eggs into what looks like a small pot and placing it in front of Raccoon.

The dog looks at Kentarou for permission, and Kentarou only has to glance at the bowl for Raccoon to understand. Kentarou looks up at the boy, who’s grinning down at Racoon as he eats. When they meet eyes, the boy’s smile softens.

“You need to let me patch you up before you get anything. Deal?”

* * *

 

The boy doesn’t let them leave after that. He asks a lot of questions, questions that Kentarou doesn’t feel up to answering, and he genuinely wants to _help_. Raccoon loves him, Yahaba, Kentarou learns his name later after spying an award he got forever ago. Raccoon loves Yahaba, and Kentarou _hates_ it, because Raccoon doesn’t like anyone except him, not even his parents. It makes it harder to rationalize leaving.

Yahaba goes to college. Yahaba leaves for most of the day but comes back at random intervals. Yahaba lets Kentarou and Raccoon sleep in his bed. Yahaba cooks for them. Yahaba makes sure that Kentarou’s feet are well taken care of. Yahaba _cares_. Yahaba is nothing like Kentarou’s parents, and it makes it harder to leave.

* * *

 

“We ran away,” Kentarou mumbles one night, when Yahaba is working on a case study due the next day and the TV is broadcasting some sitcom that Kentarou couldn’t care less about. Raccoon’s ears perk up when he talks, unused to hearing his voice after all this time. Yahaba nearly jumps out of his skin because of the shock.

“I’ve never heard you speak before,” Yahaba says thoughtfully.

“Y’ wanted t’know,” Kentarou says, pressing his face into Raccoon’s fur, just like he did back at the glass house, like he did when he didn’t want to focus on anything.

“Was there a reason why you ran away? How well did you think it through? Why’d you bring your dog with you?” But Kentarou was done speaking. “I won’t… press for more. You don’t want to talk about it. But I’m here if you need someone, okay?”

* * *

 

That night, while Yahaba sleeps curled up on the couch, Kentarou and Raccoon slip out of the small apartment and wander their way back to the old abandoned house.

* * *

 

Money’s running out quick and Raccoon is refusing to eat. Kentarou tries everything, using the last of his stolen money to buy meat, but Raccoon only looks at him with wide eyes, nudges the bowl closer to Kentarou with his nose, and goes back to sitting curled up on the floor.

“ _Eat_ ,” it’s like he’s saying, “ _I care about you more than anything_.”

Kentarou doesn’t eat.

* * *

 

Food rots, the light in Raccoon’s eyes fade away with a final lick at Kentarou’s tear-stained face, and Kentarou sobs long into the night.

The old, creaking house doesn’t sympathize.

* * *

 

Kentarou goes back to sitting at the park. He curls up at the base of the tree, his backpack next to him. The police have given up looking. Kentarou has given up caring.

It’s not long until Yahaba comes walking through the grassy expanse like he always does, and when he sees Kentarou at the base of the tree, he starts running.

When he gets to him, Kentarou’s already scrambled to his feet. Yahaba drops his backpack and throws his arms around him, pulling him in close for a hug that is almost completely new to Kentarou.

“I didn’t know where you went, you just disappeared-”

“I’m sorry-”

“I was so worried-”

“I won’t run anymore-”

“I don’t know you at all but I just-”

“Raccoon’s gone and I-”

“I won’t leave you-”

“-so _alone_ -”

“It’s okay-”

“I’m so sorry…”

Yahaba holds onto him, and as Kentarou sobs into his shoulder, as he buries his face into the crook of his neck, he is safe. In this moment, Kentarou is home.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i legit freaked while writing this. it hurt my feels. im sorry.  
> but thank you so much for reading!! please leave a comment and tell me what you think!  
> im hijackedhoneybeeez on tumblr, and im here for you if you need it! please stay safe and know you're more than enough!  
> -HB


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